What this blog is:
These blogs are more about casual suggestions than a real
analysis. I consider these to be on par with how I would recommend an album to
a friend at a bar. I understand my audience, the around 10 people who are music
lovers on my Facebook, and know a 2000-word song-by-song dissection isn’t
something most people are looking for. I mostly want an outlet to “nerd out”
about what I’m listening to, which I can’t really do in every day life.
Also, I know I give out a lot of medium scores, but here’s a
guide to what I mean when I give out a rating:
·
1-3: Bad albums. In some big way, in my mind,
these albums are devoid of serious merit and fail at what they set out to do.
·
4: Merely fine, nothing to hate. Can be skipped.
·
5: Have some good points and bad points that
will excite a listener a little. It’s a “if you have the time” kind of listen.
·
6-7: Really solid albums. This is where most
albums will end up. This is me saying to check this album out.
·
8-9: Superb album. Definitely check out.
·
10: Classic. You’d be dumb for not listening.
Kadhja Bonet- The Visitor (wrote while on a sleeping aid)
I sat on a
wooden bench looking out at the dirty pond, hands rested on my lap, politely
taking everything in. Unlike the other people on the trail that day, I was not
dressed for exercise. I was not dressed to admire nature. My winter sweater was
too warm for a nearly 60-degree day, as were my black pants. Each one of my
steps sunk into the mud, maybe an extra inch because of my steel toes. I felt
strange. I felt like a stranger, someone that shouldn’t be there. Yet, I
lumbered around aimlessly for two hours with my headphones in and hollow eyes
for whoever walked by. This hike wasn’t for fun; this hike was an escape. This
was a trip to clear my head. Not for thoughts, not for problems, just an
invitation to be nothing for a couple hours. I was not home; I was a visitor. No
moment made that more clear than when I sat on that bench and felt removed. No
one walked by and I don’t think it would’ve mattered if they did. I took myself
out of the picture. I turned on Kadhja Bonet’s The Visitor, listened to her
voice become a mist and envelop me. It was sweet, soothing, yet not of this time.
She sounded like the old soul of Nina Simone ascending to heaven. It was as
though she was timeless, a perfect soundtrack for stepping out into the ether. She
existed within herself in the same way I sought.
Songs to
Listen to: The Visitor, Nobody Other, Fairweather Friend
Rating: One
of my top 10 favorite albums of the year. 9/10
Mothers- When You Walk a Long Distance You Are Tired
I love
Angel Olsen. Angel Olsen is amazing. Talented singer. Loved her live. Wait,
this isn’t Angel Olsen? They sound so much like her.
As with
Angel Olsen, there’s a certain amount of commitment you have to have when
listening because a lot of the songs will start to blend into one big spoken
word puddle of mud. Olsen avoids this, Mothers need help. The album is a
lamentation on an old love and the toll it takes on one’s self worth, which is
a perfect theme given Leschper’s weepy voice. You can feel everything she’s
feeling in her voice. There is very little protection she is giving herself.
Vulnerability is the album’s strength and biggest weakness. If the listener is
invested, her words will reverberate in those who have felt similarly or
trigger empathy. Her voice is so ghostly that we have no trouble feeling as
haunted by her break up as she is.
However, if
you aren’t invested, the songs come off very self-defeating, depressing, and,
to be frank, a little boring. More than half the songs go past 5 minutes and
all are mostly slow moving. The whole point of the album is how she is digging
herself out of her hole, finally being able to move forward. I get that, and
everyone should have this outlet, but, I have a hard time outright enjoying
listening. It becomes the mud I mentioned earlier. A mud of phrases like, “I
want to apologize to everyone I see,” “I don’t like myself when I’m awake,” and
how she cut her tongue out because he talked for the both of them. Thankfully
we get to “I think I could learn to love” by the last song. As it pertains to
function, the album does its job of putting the listeners in her shoes and
allowing us to stew in her depression. A beautifully difficult portrait is
drawn here. I just don’t know how long I can look at it without craving more
color.
Songs to
Listen to: Too Small For Eyes, It Hurts Until It Doesn’t, Hold Your Own Hand
Rating:
Elegantly dark, yet depressing. 6/10
Flatbush Zombies- 3001: A Laced Odyssey
Anyone else
remember Odd Future? The group that spawned the solo careers of Frank Ocean,
Tyler the Creator, Earl Sweatshirt; Flatbush Zombies reminds me of them but,
instead of murder, they love psychedelic drugs. Their ep was named after a time
they spent doing LSD and watching Clockwork Orange. If someone watches Clockwork
Orange on LSD, you know they’re serious about it.
I’m not
going to lie; I have a hard time talking about rap music. It’s not my main
genre of music and since I’m not being paid to write these, I’m not going to
take time to deconstruct their lyrics or research their origins, which is a
problem since rap is mostly lyrics. With this said, I can really only give my
thoughts based on several casual listens, and my main thought when listening
is, these guys are really talented but I can’t see myself playing them to have
fun, more to have on in the background for a vibe. If you were starting a rap
army, these are the guys you would bring in to be snipers, but never the
leaders. Excellent bars, great lines, heavy topics like drugs and suicide, a
dark atmosphere (see “Ascension”), and talented members. No stand out tracks
though. Nothing I can walk away with. In a way, they remind me of the Wu-tang
clan because they’re great at their craft, but appeal more to those invested in
the genre. Even though I find it hard to talk about them, I wanted to bring
them to the attention of people who live and die for rap.
Songs to
Listen to: Bounce, R.I.P.C.D, Your Favorite Rap Song
Rating: A craftsmen
kind of album. 6/10
Brian Fallon- Painkillers
Gaslight
Anthem is a band that I attached to a lot when I was younger in the same way
that Brian Fallon did to Bruce Springsteen when he was. The tale of a bunch of
working class kids driving around in love and steeped in nostalgia really connected
with me. As it was for a bunch of people, most of my teen years were filled
with driving around with the radio on, fawning over my “Maria.” Sink or Swim
was a big album for me. ’59 Sound became my Born to Run. American Slang took
time to grow on me, but after popping it in my car and subsequently listening
to it for 2 weeks continuously, has become an album that I put on when I want a
for sure pick me up. Then something happened. Handwritten came out and was this
weird hard rock album and Get Hurt was this generic scatterplot. Brian Fallon
went from being inspired by the radio to wanting to be the radio. Scaling back
the ambition and falling back on references to his early work, these new albums
weren’t living up to the formers. So when he announced a solo release, I was
intrigued on whether this would give him more freedom, if he would move from
his main project. He didn’t really, but, hey, it turns out that’s not really a
bad thing.
He’s still
being driven crazy by this anonymous person, held on to the overall feeling of
Gaslight Anthem, still a boom box Romeo. While I was looking for a change in
sound, he has managed to salvage the best parts of the two “eras” of Gaslight.
The catchiness of the later stuff is still present; the message of the early
work returns. I believe a theme of an album really carries the rest and should
always take place in the first song. It’s something that the listener can hold
on to, see evolve, and decide if it ever sees fruition. The first song, “A
Wonderful Life,” has the last line, “I don’t want to survive, I want a wonderful
life.” That line becomes the focal of the entire album and I feel like that’s a
line that is universal enough to give the album weight. So when he tells
someone “the lights in this town don’t brighten up anything,” it gives this
image of a bunch of small towners hoping for more, dreaming of more. The album
never really capitalizes on where all this hoping goes, but at least it gives
the audience something to grab. I could see this album being some kid’s Sink or
Swim, an album that dares you to want more but remains as directionless as you
are.
Songs to
Listen to: A Wonderful life, Smoke, Steve McQueen
Rating:
Solid solo debut that would work better with specifics and a resolution. 5/10
The Lumineers- Cleopatra
Friend texts me- Hey, have you listened to the new Lumineers
album yet?
Me- Nah, is it any good?
Friend- eh, it’s a Lumineers album. It’s what you would
expect.
That pretty
much sums it up. This is a Lumineers album. In terms of sound, it’s nearly
identical to their first album. They’re commercial but not in a way that you
have any cause to hate them. They are so heart-on-your-sleeve and humble that
it works. This is a band that made me love a song that uses the imagery of a
man in the rain yelling to a women’s window, despite how stereotypical it is.
If a band really sells an idea, they can make anything work. I personally enjoy
listening to them, yet, I wouldn’t brag to people that I do. The music they
make is somehow rural and made for stadiums, which is remarkable. It’s so big
and capitalizes on the crowd pleasing elements of folk (hand claps, a lovelorn
man, HUGE chorus) and it works. No doubt this album is more mature, cutting out
songs that don’t tell a story. After the initial half that is filled with “the
hits,” everything slows down, which is nice. It’s good that they decided to tone
things down a bit to create more texture. After a while though, you miss the
bustle.
Songs to
Listen to: Sleep on the Floor, Cleopatra, Angela
Rating: If
you liked the last album, you’ll like this one. 5.5
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